| abstract
| - October 25, 2011 (Downtown, Crystal City) --- Torque minds the usual traffic of the downtown area of Crystal City while in her towtruck mode, large U-Haul type container wheeling along behind her while attatched to her hitch. Once she finds a viable parking spot on the side of the street she unhitches and transforms, entering a code on a side panel of the container to cause the wheels to transform out of side, keeping it stationary. The femme sighs softly, removing her cap and subspacing, a hand running through her cable hair before she gestures to a mech hanging outside a paint store. He nods and she opens the container to be loaded up with a few crates. When done she slips him some credits and locks the container back up, optics running up and down the avenue in curiousity. What else to buy? Some ways down the avenue, a mech steps out into the street from one of the shops, still glancing behind him as he pauses in teh doorway, seeming to be still conversing with someone within. After a few more exchanges, the mech finally exits fully, stepping out into the street, a fiber-optics woven cape swaying side to side along his lithe frame, catching bits of light and returning a plethora of colours. The mech strolls with a casual grace and his chin up high. It is clear wherever he is going he is in no rush. As he passes people on the street, he nods to them, occassionally offering a verbal greeting, and even spontaneously shaking hands with people. When he comes upon Torque, the mech smiles, showing off his shiny denta and inclines his head. "Good cycle. I hope you are well, and finding everything you need." He glances beyond her at the trailer being filled up, then back at her. "Is that yours?" Torque's attention is grabbed as the caped mech approaches, having noted him before momentarily yet not taking an immediate interest until he actually addresses her. Antennas twitch up in intrigue as she gets a good look at him now, appearing a bit enthralled as optics catch the attention to detail of the marks on his armor. It takes her a moment to actually come back to reality and she blinks before finally smiling in turn. "Oh! Good cycle. And yes, it's mine. Just picking up supplies for my shop." A hand raises to push the cable hair covering one optic, though it simply falls right back in place. "Sorry for staring. ..I just couldn't help but admire your paint job." Torque chuckles softly, a hand rubbing the back of her neck in embarrassment. Hookshot raises his optic ridges, his green optics gleaming as he allows a small laugh to escape. "Why thank you. Do not worry, staring does not offend me. If it did, I would be painted in far more conservative colours." His optics go over the many cables that stream about her head with slight curiousity. It was not a common helmet, which catches his attention. However, he pulls himself from this observation and quickly regains optic contact. "You run a shop, you say? Might I ask what sort?" Torque steps up from the street and onto the sidewalk alongside Hookshot, not wanting to get run down by anyone. "Well, I'm glad you're not. The more creative the better, in my opinion." She smiles, antenna ears twitching a little, the lights on their ends glowing with their usual soft amber orange color. An unpainted hand is thrust in his direction when he asks of the shop, the femme grinning pleasently. "Mmhm. It's a repair shop in Cubicron. Not the flashiest, but I take pride in it. I also offer paint jobs and detailing, one of my specialties. The name's Torque, by the way." It's fairly obvious she's neutral, no emblem to speak of anywhere on her body, which isn't a bad thing since it'd take away from her unique paint which looks nearly black as night until the light hits it, radiating a deep indigo wherever the rays touch. The only thing breaking the solid paint are bits of silver and lighter indigo in places. Hookshot lifts his head up, as nodding, but then it hangs there a moment, chin up in the air as he says "Aaaaaaaaah," slowly. Finally he completes his nods, peering at the strange yet beautifully painted femme intently. Likewise, this mech does not have any apparent insignia, just a few deckels of purely ornamental design. "In Cubicron you say? I am afraid I do not go down there very often," he responds. He holds out an open hand. "Torque? I am Weaversplice. I, too, own a shop," he turns sideways and points down the avenue to a shop wedged between two others with a sign, outlined in lights of a cool shade contrasting with the bold golden letters that say 'Golden Memories Antiques and Art'. Her grip is surprisingly strong and firm for her appearance, but it seems she's careful not to hurt him while exchanging pleasentries. "I honestly wouldn't expect you to go there, or anyone else for that matter. But it's my home, so I choose to stay until I find a much better place." Torque rolls her shoulders in a light shrug, but keeps her light smile when he introduces himself, "Nice to meet you, Weaver." Already he had a nickname of sorts. Hopefully he wouldn't mind. Her handshake pauses as ice blue optics follow his pointing finger, catching sight of the shop and its name. She beams a bit, but tries her best to keep casual. "Ooh, so you're the mech who bought that place. I've really never been in there, though it certainly has me curious..." She muses softly, wondering what delight things are just waiting her perusal in there. The mech avoids wincing at the surprise of strength in the femme's hand; he can feel, should she have not been gentle, she likely could have crushed his hand. Perhaps not actually ground the metal into dust, but at least gave his sensors something to whinge about. "Well, home is what one makes of it," he remarks almost whistfully. He nods his head towards his shop, adding "Well, if you have the time and trust your trailer unattended, why not take now as an opportunity?" Torque returns her hand to her side once greetings are aside, the femme still eyeing the shop when he mentions coming in. "My trailer is fine on its own.. though I don't want to be a bother since you seem on your way somewhere." Hand rubs her neck again, antennas falling backwards and down, actually looking a tad shy at the offer. "But.. if you insist, I'm certainly looking for new things to use in my art." She hmms softly, but has already made up her mind, nodding in responce before making sure her trailer is locked and secure. The mech, Weaversplice, waits for Torque to secure his trailor before he holds out an elbow for her in a gentlemechly gesture, a pleasant and inviting smile on his narrow face. "So, you do art as well?" he inquires. Torque isn't particularly used to such manners, so at first Weaver is met with a quizzical look when she turns to see the elbow offered. She doesn't refuse though, only smiling and looping her arm with his, joining him in a casual walk back to the shop. Torque nods at the mech's question, optics brightening in enthusiasm at his interest. "Yes. Sometimes I paint and design, but my main passion is sculpture. I tend to recreate things I see, other times it's just my imagination at work." She shrugs, though her actions appear slightly jerky as she takes something from subspace while walking, showing him what she now holds. It's a cybertronian flower. At least you'd think it at first until looking closer. The shape is some sort of lotus, as big as the palm of her hand, each thin metal petal blossoming from the center like a floral explosion. Overlaying the metal is a pink tinted clearcoat, allowing the original silver to blend in and show through. Engraved in the metal is faint filigree depression, forming arching swirls along the petals that coalesce around a few little dewdrop shapes carved from glowing blue energon. Sprouting from the center are a few bits of wire, easily curled into a pleasing shape, small dots of some glowing yellow substance dangling off the ends. Weaversplice slows his pace, nearly coming to an abrupt stop when he sees the wonderous work of delicate art places before him. He stares at it for a long while before regaining a more casual composure, nodding his head. "It is quite exquisite. I would had not thought such strong hands could craft something so delicately," Weaversplice remarks. He waits for her to place it away before resuming his previous pace, perhaps quickening it slightly. "I find there is a sad lack of artistis to be found in this war. Yes, I understand anxiety over resources being fought over, and thus somewhat scarce, especially to neutrals..." he pauses a moment giving her a side glance before looking forward and continuing, "....but being too pragmatic and people lose their.... spark. That more metaphysical part of their spark." Torque smiles softly at his approval, nodding her head in thanks before subspacing it safely away. "I suppose I just know how to work metal." She grins, keeping up the pace with him. "But I agree completely. If we don't have such things as art, history, or even just a creative culture in itself to keep alive and hopeful, how would even dare to think about surviving this battle?" Torque remains quiet a moment before saying softly, "The planet is already in shambles. It's only right to try and hold onto the beautiful and meaningful things in life..." She eventually comes back from her thoughts when they reach the antique shop, antennas perking up as she peers curiously through a window. The window of Golden Memories Antiques and Art showcases a few ancient helmets and other parts to one side of the display, a few old weapons towards the center, and one metal etching piece of art, reletively small but stylistically interesting, and a crystal scultpure of the Tower of Freedom. There isn't much room in the window, frames with gentle warm floodlights to accent the pieces being shown. Weaversplice smiles and steps aside, making a gallant sweeping gesture for her to enter the automated door first. While waiting for her to enter, he ventures to say, "Indeed, I can not agree more with everything you have said. War is so ugly, so not, it is more important, not less, to enlighten our sparks and processors with beauty and culture, lest we lose any hint of civilization and go as feral and barbaric as the transorgs." The femme stares in awe as she enters, having never seen so many ancient, priceless pieces of the past in one place before. "Amazing..." She breathes the words out softly, stepping further into the shop at a slow pace. Eventually she stops in the center, taking a moment before beaming bright and swiftly moving off to observe the several different objects, as fascinated as a sparkling in a toy shop. "Just amazing... Were all these things here when you bought the place? Or did you find them on your own? I can't even imagine how you'd do that.." She takes a particular interest in any armor pieces she spots, studying the details extensively. As she examines the merchandise with wide-opticked wonder, Weaversplice cannot help but smile, and ease himself back into that sense of wonder himself vicariously. The look on his face broadcasts that it gives him much pleasure to see someone enthusiastic about his wares. Even when she asks a question, he seems to take a moment to realize it. However, without faltering in expression, he finally says, "Most of it was here in storage when I purchased, but I have contribued from my own stores. I am a collector myself," after a thoughtful pause. Torque hmms softly to herself while continueing to look over his things, really taking in everything around. "You must have worked hard to even just get one of these things..." Her intrigue peaks when the femme spots a glass case of smaller items, observing curiously. "Hmm.. but if you're a collector of art, maybe you'd like this then. Primus knows I don't need it." Torque stands finally, turning and walking right up to him. Hand delves back into subspace and she pulls out the false flower again, handing it to him on an open palm. Weaversplice gently receives the beautiful flower sculpture, handling it daintily in his hand, bringing it closer to his face to gaze at it before lowering his hand again. "My... what a wonderful gift. I am most honoured and flattered." He glances about himself for a moment or two and then walks over to a counter, nodding to the cashier currently on staff. "One moment, please? I will be back shortly," he says, heading through a door marked Staff Only. Once Weaversplice is beyond the door, the cashier smiles at Torque in a friendly way. He's a stout, blocky build without a neck and shoulers armored too high, giving him a stooped appearance. "Is there anything I can help you with?" Torque had been so caught up in the items on display that she hadn't even noticed the cashier until now, letting Weaver move off for a moment. "Hm? Oh yes. Do you have any accessories? Like a piece to clip here?" She asks the cashier mech, hand raising to motion at her iris colored cable hair. The femme wasn't one for jewelery, so maybe just something to stick in her hair would do. The cashier looks at Torque attentively until she is finished describing. Then he is silent for a moment, as he tries to think. "Hmmm.... no, I do not believe we have anything like that... except maybe..." the cashier trails off and moves from around the counter, going over to a shelf loaded with little knick-knacks. He hmms and haws as he searches, his finger traveling along an invisible path as he looks at every piece carefully. "Ah!" he finally says, taking down a bright yellow item. It is a small round disk with a clasp on the back. Upon it is a turquise crescent almost completely framing the object. It's fairly tacky in its own right, but one who knows her paints could tell it was painted with a much older formula than those used nowadays. "This was popular to affix onto cloaks and the like, but some also started using them on Fiber Optic Llamas that they entered into contests and such. I'm afraid clip accessories aren't quite so popular as the magnetic variety." It is about then that Weaversplice returns, smiling when he sees Torque and the cashier looking at something. "My, you have put upon me quite an imposition." Torque gently takes the piece that's presented to her, looking at it closely with a careful eye as he speaks. "I suppose that's bad luck on my part then for installing these cables." She smirks and places the clip upon the counter. It was right to be called tacky just by appearance alone, but nothing a little polish wouldn't fix. "How much?" Attention shifts from the cashier back to Weaversplice when he returns, one antenna drooping to the side as a brow raises. "What do you mean?" The cashier glances at the piece and then quickly types a few things into a database to bring up the price. After confirming it, he glances back over to Torque, quoting the price. It's pricey for a knick-knack, but inexpensive for anything that could be considered an antique. Weaversplice, meanwhile, walks over to Torque, glancing at the item she chose out for herself with a raised optic ridge, but says nothing about it. Instead he addresses her question. "You have graced me with such kindness and beauty..." he trails off for a moment, optics trailing off to where he'd just come from for a moment, "...of a gift, and I am called away on business. Leaving so soon after being paid such an honour is a breech in the standard I hold myself to." He inclines his head, keeping his chin low as he continues, "Alas, though, I will have to comprimise my ethics, as this is a time sensitive matter of a private auction. I bid you good cycle and..." he glances over at the cashier, placing out a hand to still him from the transaction, "...please take that as a gift, though it shies in comparison to the flower you gave me." Torque's other antenna joins the other, the femme looking unhappy that he has to go so soon. "Really, it's nothing." She manages a smile at his compliments, though blinks in surprise at him letting her keep the clasp. "What?? Really? I mean.. thank you, that's really nice of you." The mechanic grins, actually breaking more into character as she gives him a quick hug, though it careful not to squeeze too hard. "Oh and here. I know you said you don't go to Cubicron, but maybe you can make an exception." She pulls a little data card from subspace, handing it to him. On it is her personal radio information so he can reach her. "Gimme a call sometime and I'll invite you over for energon or something." Her grin grows a little sheepish, adding quickly, "And of course show you the other pieces I've made." She pauses to clear her throat a moment before continueing, making her way to the door. "Anyway, I'll make sure to stop by here again. ..And thanks again for this." She flashes the clasp with a smile and finally exits. It would be an understatement to say that the mech seemed a little surprised by the hug, but he quickly recovers from the first flinch of shock and returns with just a sturdy hand on her shoulder and a warm smile, despite his face having a dubious, angular shape and sharp edges that would make him look otherwise menacing if not for the kind expressions it wore. "Really, the clasp is a trifle," he insists. He accepts the datacard, glancing at it and then tucking it away into subspace before looking up to her. "Perhaps I will take you up on your offer. Farewell, Torque."
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